


If You Love Me, Come Clean

by darkprincecharming



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Be gentle, M/M, the first nygmobblepot thing i've ever written
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-25
Updated: 2018-06-25
Packaged: 2019-05-28 04:56:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15041204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darkprincecharming/pseuds/darkprincecharming
Summary: a small idea I had that I decided to write out. revolves around the first times Edward Nygma and Oswald Cobblepot met, and the point in time where Oswald lived in Ed's apartment. I'm not really good at rating things, but there is mild gore description and a mention of sex.





	If You Love Me, Come Clean

The first time I met Edward Nygma, we had been in the GCPD, talking. I found him rather odd, and rather intriguing at the same time. The way he stood. The riddles he seemed to always have at hand. I wondered if he was even real. He seemed too good to be true, a dream in a human body. And that’s exactly what he wanted everyone to think. Broken, bleeding, and dying he found me again in the woods. I had lost my mother and I thought I was about to lose my life too. But Ed, he had a funny way of saving someone. The savior in question had rescued me, but hadn’t saved my soul.

Ed, the savior, the devil. I saw a lot of myself in him and it scared me. The sudden coldness he seemed to display at times. His demeanor he had when he was in his own personal space. A place he could call his own. But we were different in one regard; he had a dominant personality that seemed to drown out all else in him and me. I was weak and submissive next to his intellect and stature and personality. I think that’s how he wanted me to feel, as well, for the first time he laid his hands on me he injected me with something to knock me out. The whole passion of the man coming to my rescue drained away. I don’t know how long I was out, but it must have been at least a day or two. Edward was up, singing a song my mother had sang to me when I would try and fail to go to sleep. When the kids at school had bullied me to the point of wanting to give up. It suddenly hit me that the song, the timing, my mother being gone. It all led up to me breaking down and crying in a stranger’s bed.

Edward kept his distance, but the coldness with the hint of power glinted in his eyes. 

“Y-you were singing it to yourself, softly. I recognized the tune. I didn’t mean to upset you.” I looked over at the well groomed, too good for me man across the room from me. 

“No, don’t you worry. It was just a passing mood, I’m okay now.” I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand and hid the tears still dancing behind my eyelids. Ed looked even more worried then. I gave him a quick thumbs up and the fakest-real smile I could muster and that seemed to get his mind off of me. For then.

The first time Ed touched me when I was fully aware and conscious was a few days into our strange relationship. He gently touched my shoulder and I whipped around, scared until I saw who it was. I had been too jumpy. I resolved to fix it as soon as I could get any time to myself to recover.

“Oswald, I need to change your bandages now.” I winced and the look in the taller man’s eyes softened. 

“It’s okay Oswald. I’ll try not to hurt you.” I shrugged off the robe that was two sizes too big for me. I laid my eyes on his and there was nothing that seemed to hurt me more than being open and vulnerable around this man I still barely knew. He unwrapped the bandages from me slowly, painfully. I gritted my teeth as to not scream my head off as he applied more alcohol to the wound where a bullet had been mere days ago. 

“Oswald, Oswald, it’s okay, I’m sorry I hurt you.” The concern in his eyes seemed genuine enough, I suspected.

“I know you didn’t mean to, Edward.” His eyes lit up. Glowed with a fire, a passion perhaps. He unrolled the bandages onto my searing skin. I did all I could from crying in his presence yet again. I looked into his eyes again and saw it again. The light. The passion. The dominance. It was almost too much and I leaned against him as he put the rest of the bandages he had on hand over my wound. I felt hands rubbing up my back and I sighed. His hands were gentle, almost deliberately so. I wondered if this was how Kristen had spent her last night. In this same bed. I laughed softly and Ed hid the fact that he knew. Knew what I was thinking about and ignored my soft laughter echoing throughout his apartment.

 

The second time Edward Nygma touched me, we had just killed a man together. The blood of the man we killed together stained our clothes and hands. I grinned over at Edward who had a blood smudge on his glasses in the shape of a fingertip. Small arches stained red fell against a window of sight. My own reflection in the glasses atop his nose made me look small and insignificant in comparison to him. I reached up to grab his glasses, temporarily rendering him blind. I tried as best I could to wipe the foreign substance off of the eyeglasses so he could see what he had triggered in me. The adrenaline. The arousal. I placed them back atop his nose and the smudge was way worse than when I started. He shrugged and took them off, placing them on the end table near his bed. Since when had we gotten over there?

“Os, I…” 

“Yes Ed?” I replied but was shut off by lips pressing against mine feverishly. I kissed him back, pouring every emotion I had felt in the past week into that kiss. I felt like sobbing after he pulled away from my lips. Blood covered his lips and I assumed it was the man’s blood. It took me a second to realise my lip was bleeding from a small wound embedded in my lip. Edward smirked and took my hand, kissing it. 

“Would you like to take this to the bedroom?” I giggled, a schoolgirlish one at that. 

“You had me at ‘take’.” I said, kissing him again.

 

The next morning, Edward’s marks were all over my body. I had bruises on my neck. Fingerprints if you actually looked at them properly. Hickies covered my inner thighs and my collarbones. The marks proved to me as Ed had said to me the night before, me spread out underneath him.

“You’re mine, Oswald Cobblepot. Mine.” And I could not ever tell him that he was wrong, because the burning in his eyes commanded my attention and my obedience. I was his, for however long he wanted to keep me. And that was fine with me.


End file.
